The House Guest
by shippershape
Summary: Clarke loves her best friend, so when Octavia's brother needs a place to stay, Clarke doesn't think twice about offering up her loft. It's no trouble at all, that is until Clarke realizes what a surly, arrogant prick he is. When a few days turns into a few weeks it's too late to back out, and now she finds herself stuck with an unwelcome roommate.


"Oh my god." Clarke woke with a groan, her mouth like sandpaper. "Why do I do this?" She wondered aloud, making her way to the bathroom. She came into contact with a very unmoving wall, and the pounding in her head kicked up a notch. Damn. She had forgotten she was at Octavia's.

Stepping sideways through the door, she let out a loud moan as the daylight flooding the hallway seared into her eyes.

"Morning, sunshine." Clarke peeked through the fingers she had thrown up to protect her eyes, and saw an already dressed Octavia smiling up at her. She scowled.

"How do you do that?" She asked.

"What?"

"You drank at least as much as I did last night. How are you already up and dressed? And… alive?" Clarke stared suspiciously at her. Octavia smiled again, this time a little mischievously. "O, you didn't." The answering laugh told her all she needed to know. Ever since they'd met a year and a half ago Octavia had been a wild child. There was the drinking, and some pot, both of which Clarke had not only tolerated but joined in. But some of the parties were wilder and Octavia had an appetite for life that she supplemented with narcotics. Eventually, Clarke had been concerned enough to intervene, and Octavia had left the drugs behind. Until last night apparently.

"Don't worry, it's not what you think. It's some kind of caffeine ginseng combination. A hangover miracle cure." Octavia held out a bottle, and Clarke grabbed it. She skimmed the label, most of which was in Spanish. Eyeing it dubiously, she looked back up at her friend.

"I can't read this. " She left the pills on the table in the hallway, and finished her painful shuffle to the bathroom. Glancing up into the mirror, she repressed another groan. Her make-up was smudged under her eyes, clearly she hadn't been lucid enough to take it off. Her hair had actually held up pretty well, but there was something on her neck something that looked suspiciously like… "OCTAVIA!" She stormed out of the bathroom, anger mixing with anxiety.

"What?" Octavia was in the kitchen, a pan of French toast searing in front of her. It smelled both delicious and slightly nauseating. Clarke walked up to her, yanking her own hair out of her neck.

"What is this?" She pointed to the dark spot on her neck.

"That's a hickey."

"Yes, thank you. I don't remember anything after we left Ark last night, should I even ask where I got this?" Clarke frowned, waiting for an answer. As much as she loved to have fun, she liked to remember having it, especially when she was waking up with hickeys.

"Oh relax. I gave that to you. We were pretty drunk, I think it was at Phoenix? Or maybe Zero G? No, wait…" Octavia's musings were cut short by the sound of a door slamming. Alarmed, Clarke grabbed the nearest thing she could find. She looked down to find herself holding a ladle.

"Did you not lock the door?" She hissed. Octavia frowned.

"No, I did, which means that it must be-" Before she could finish her sentence the mystery intruder rounded the corner to the kitchen, pausing when he saw Octavia and Clarke. Octavia threw herself at him, letting out a yell. "Bell! What are you doing here?" He caught her in a hug, swinging her easily, and Clarke couldn't help but notice the muscles in his forearms as he did so.

"I'm in town for a few days. I couldn't come through without seeing my little sis." He laughed, setting her down. His eyes drifted to Clarke, and she suddenly realized she was wearing nothing but a white tank top, which she was pretty sure was see through, and her very sexy but very inappropriate for this situation black underwear. Deciding it was too late to do anything about it, and too proud to make an embarrassed dash for the bedroom, Clarke stared back at him. He was hot, she wasn't going to deny it. He was tall, probably around 6'3, with dark curly hair and intense brown eyes. He looked lean, but Clarke could tell that he was well muscled under his t-shirt.

"You're Octavia's brother?" She had heard a little about him, but other than occasionally complaining about how overprotective he was, Octavia didn't mention him much. He nodded, eyes travelling slowly down her body in a way that she couldn't help but appreciate. Eventually his gaze made it back up to her face.

"Yeah. Bellamy Blake." He held out a hand to her. Uncrossing her arms from her chest, Clarke grabbed it. A smile flitted across her face, and she laughed. Bellamy looked confused.

"Sorry." She shrugged. "It just seems like a formal introduction, considering." She gestured at herself, but he just continued to stare, straightfaced. "I'm Clarke." Octavia cleared her throat.

"Bell, why don't you help me with the French toast. Clarke, why don't you go put on some pants?" Octavia threw a meaningful look at the bedroom. Sighing, Clarke complied. Octavia was hardly a prude, but there was a weird energy in the kitchen, and Clarke couldn't blame her for wanting her friends to be less naked around her brother. Deciding to give Octavia and her brother some time to catch up, Clarke grabbed a shower before changing and heading back to the kitchen. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants that she'd leant Octavia months ago, and a McGill University t-shirt. She found Octavia and Bellamy sitting on the couch, arguing over something on tv.

"It's trash, O, we're not watching that."

"It's my tv, go watch your boring shows at your own house."

"Seriously that stuff will rot your brain."

"Good thing I have no brains to ro-"

Clarke cleared her throat as she made her way to the couch, amused. She was an only child, and she'd always been a little envious of the people around her with siblings. As she'd gotten older the desire had faded, and for the most part she was just glad she didn't have anyone stealing her clothes or barging in without knocking. All of that had changed when she met Octavia, but she hadn't minded. It was like having a sister, and after her father died a few years ago Clarke could use all the family she could get.

"Oh, hey. We left you some French toast, it's on the stove." Octavia turned back to her brother, but he was staring at Clarke. Again.

"What?" Clarke glanced down self-consciously.

"Uh nothing." Bellamy shook his head like he was trying to shake water from his ears. "It's just, that's my shirt." He nodded at her chest.

"Oh." Clarke looked at it. Shrugged. "Sorry. Did you want me to change?" He hesitated, and Clarke started to feel a little uncomfortable, did he honestly care about a shirt he hadn't seen in months? He finally shook his head.

"It's fine." He muttered, and Clarke just nodded stiffly. Octavia slid over, making room for Clarke on the couch.

"Grab some food and get over here. You're the deciding vote, are we watching Dumbest Criminals or the news?" Clarke rolled her eyes. "You really think you're going to get Octavia to watch the news? How well do you know your sister?" She smirked at Bellamy and dropped into the seat beside Octavia. He was still looking at her, but he turned his gaze to the tv.

"Fine. I can't believe you watch this crap, I thought med students were supposed to be intelligent." Bellamy switched back to the desired program, and Clarke tried to hide her surprise. Clearly the Blakes had been talking about her. Ignoring his blatant insult, and his attitude in general, Clarke settled in to watch a man wearing nylon tights on his head try to steal a swing set.

A few hours later, Clarke finished helping clean up the kitchen, and was grabbing her things from the night before when she heard the siblings arguing again.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know you were coming-"

"It's fine, O, I'll get a hotel, I should have given you more notice."

Clarke walked in on them, having changed back into her dress from the club. She didn't mind the walk of shame look anymore, she was beginning to think she might as well uphold the reputation she'd gotten ever since becoming friends with Octavia. She was a mostly well respected surgical intern with a good apartment courtesy of her father's money. After he died he'd left her more than enough money to go to school, and while she loved her mother Clarke had wanted to live on her own. Deciding she'd be living in the area for a while, through pre-med and medical studies, her internship, Clarke had invested in a big loft in downtown Vancouver, close to Vancouver General where she was finishing her internship.

"Everything okay?" Clarke asked, leaning down to persuade her sore feet back into her heels. When she looked back up Octavia had a strange look on her face, one that always lead to her asking for a favor.

"Actually, no." Octavia said, at the same time her brother shook his head.

"Yes." Bellamy insisted, glaring at his sister. "It's fine." Intrigued, Clarke waited.

"You know how Lincoln's coming to town." Octavia said slowly, giving Clarke some kind of weird, meaningful look from behind Bellamy's head. Clarke was starting to get a bad feeling. "Well, I told him he could stay here." Clarke already knew all of this, Octavia had been seeing this guy Lincoln for a few months long-distance, and she wouldn't shut up about him finally coming to visit. She still didn't see the problem. "Well, Bellamy here didn't book a hotel because he figured he'd be crashing here, and as much as I'd love to have him, I don't really have enough room." Oh. Clarke was beginning to get it. In fact, it was all too clear. Octavia had more than enough room, but the real issue was that having Bellamy around would almost certainly put a wrench in her plans to spend the entire weekend in bed with her boyfriend. Clarke sighed.

"Okay." She frowned, still a little lost. Suddenly it hit her. "Oh. Bellamy can stay with me." She said, realizing what Octavia was leading up to. Bellamy was looking incredibly uncomfortable, and Clarke smiled. "Of course he can, if that's what you're asking. You know I've got more than enough room, plus I'll barely be around." She cocked her head, appraising him. "You're more than welcome, if you want." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and irritated. Clarke didn't know what his problem was, and she didn't particularly like him, but any family of Octavia's was family to her, and she genuinely didn't spend enough time at home to be bothered by him.

"I can just get a hotel, it's really not that big of a deal." Octavia kicked him, and he stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "What is your problem?"

"I want you close. Besides, this way you don't have to pay for a hotel, and you can actually get to know one of my friends. Maybe once you get to know her you'll stop worrying about me so much. Clarke's good people." Bellamy looked between the two girls, trapped. It was obvious that he didn't want to argue with Octavia, but Clarke suspected he had issues with letting people do him favors. She could understand that, she was the same.

"Um, okay." He blinked at Clarke. "Sure, that would be great. If you're sure I'm not imposing." Clarke shook her head.

"No, it's totally fine. I don't spend that much time at home anyways. I'm heading home now, if you wanted to drop off your stuff." She held up her keys. Bellamy nodded.

"Sure. I'll grab my suitcase." He disappeared down the hall to get his things and Clarke turned to stare at her friend.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think he likes me very much." Octavia just laughed.

"He likes you fine. Actually, probably more than fine considering the way he was checking you out in the kitchen, but he's an asshole to everyone. He'll warm up eventually." Clarke wanted to reply that they only had a few days, and that she doubted he would even finish defrosting by then, but suddenly he reappeared, and she bit her tongue.

"Okay, I'm good." He had thrown on a leather jacket, giving him a weird but very hot bad boy vibe, and Clarke found herself momentarily thrown.

"I… uh, cool. I guess we're gonna head out, bye Tav." Clarke gave her friend a little wave, then turned to the door. Bellamy followed, and they made her way out to the parking lot.

"So, how long have you known my sister?" Bellamy asked. Clarke was a little surprised that he was even talking to her given how surly he'd been all morning.

"About a year and a half. I was working at the hospital when I met her." Clarke paused, unsure how much Bellamy knew about his sister's partying.

"When she overdosed." It wasn't a question. Clarke sighed.

"Yeah. I was doing rounds with my resident, and we got a little time off. I was just walking by her room and I looked in and she was just sitting there. She was alone, and she looked so young, and I just thought she looked lost. Anyways, the next day it was the same thing, and the day after that. There was no one with her, so I went in, and I asked if she needed anything, and started eating my lunch in there. She was out within a week but we kept in touch." They'd made it to the car by the time Clarke was finished her story, and slid the key into the door. Sometimes she wished her car had one of those fobs that could unlock it remotely, but she was too attached to ever trade hers in for a newer model. Bellamy had been listening quietly, but as he realized the car was hers, he let out a noise of surprise.

"This is yours?" He whistled appreciatively. It was a '69 Dodge Charger, and it was her pride and joy. It had been her father's, and though Clarke knew next to nothing about cars, she had a good friend in her mechanic, and the car was in pristine condition. She smiled at Bellamy.

"It was my dad's." She slid in, unlocking his door. He shoved his suitcase in the back, glancing around the interior.

"So, what are the odds I could talk you into letting me drive this thing?" Clarke just laughed, pressing her foot to the gas. The drive was a short one, even when she wasn't showing off exactly what her car could do, and they were there in minutes. As she stepped out onto the pavement in front of her building, she felt Bellamy looking at her again.

"What?" He shook his head.

"I just didn't realize you were rich. The car should have been my first clue." Clarke scowled. She hated being called rich. All her life she'd been mocked because her mother was a surgeon and her father was a successful engineer, and the crowd she'd hung out with hadn't been quite as well off as her. She'd been called highborn, a snob, privileged.

"I'm not, really. Most of my money's either tied up in that loft or gone to school." Bellamy rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, princess." Spluttering, Clarke watched as he made his way to her door, peering around as though he'd never seen a building with a doorman before. As much as she loved Octavia, Clarke was beginning to have doubts about this arrangement. What had she gotten herself into?


End file.
